Dirt-Cheap Travel: Stowe, VT

I knew I could coerce my friend Dirk into picking up the tab for pizza and beers on my first evening and save myself a good $20. When you’re in Stowe for a weekend, you need every Jackson, Hamilton, and Lincoln you can scam—even in April. Turns out I didn’t need to dip into my karmic credit line at all: I rolled through three days of primo corn and two nights of not-so-cheap beer and decent chow on a little more than two Franklins.

And I mean “rolled” in the most literal sense. A year prior, I’d scored a sweet deal on a 1999 three-quarter-ton Dodge work van, the sort of rig that’s typically found in the driveways of plumbing contractors and bearded old men with questionable histories and lots of candy. I’d ostensibly purchased it for a family road trip, but the truth is, I coveted both its total lack of panache and its sheer capacity. I built a bedlike platform in the Dodge, making it a mobile hotel. There are many advantages of such a vehicle. Chief among them is the ability to sleep slopeside for nothing. When I awoke at Stowe in the middle of the night to relieve myself, I could see the lights of the cats buffing the next morning’s corn. I could turn my head to the sky and watch the stars smile down upon me as I peed out some beer. Life was good. It only got better. The day before, I’d dropped $125 for a three-day pass and Dirk and I had skied ourselves silly in bright, 50-degree sunshine, on a nearly record-setting base gone to creamed corn. The next two days weren’t much different.

I developed a simple and satisfying rhythm. After crashing for nine solid hours in my “room,” I’d motor into town and relax with a coffee and a bagel while I waited for the sun to do its transformative work on the hill. Around 10 o’clock, I’d point the Dodge uphill, park in the near-empty lot, and hammer out lap after lap on Stowe classics like Goat, Starr, and Lookout. Toward the end of the day, with my legs as mushy as the snow beneath my skis, I’d run ’em fast and loose down twisty cruisers like Perry Merrill and Nosedive.

My three cheap days came to a coda on a sunny Tuesday. I’d connected with a small clutch of local rippers, and we skied the mountain as if each turn might be our last, as if the season might end without a moment’s notice. The sun was high and my wallet—while not exactly heavy with cash—wasn’t nearly as light as a three-day stay in Stowe might have rendered it. I had over $60 left before my $300 limit. I tried to think of how I might spend it. But then I spied a long sliver of perfect, unblemished corn. And I knew nothing I bought could be worth more than this.

Mt. Hood’s three ski areas are just a short drive from all those hipsters.

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Submitted by davygoat2 on November 4, 2010 - 1:02pm.

way too much for a lift ticket.
I skied there religiously as a kid before the big money crowd came to town. it's not the same and probably never will again.
hoping to poach some backcountry, might even the score.
Or I could just enjoy the groove @ Bolton.
there are no days of bad skiing....
only days i ski badly!!!

Submitted by theburlingtonhostel on November 8, 2010 - 8:25am.

If you're looking for affordable accomodations after hitting the slopes, the Burlington Hostel is a great alternative to ski resorts. Right in the heart of down town Burlington, it provides an inexpensive and comfortable stay for skiers and travelers alike.

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